


Road Trip

by transmuting



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hook-Up, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmuting/pseuds/transmuting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After breaking up with Ray, Tony decides to help Ziva snap out of her headspace by taking her on a spontaneous road trip over a long weekend. Tiva :3 Rated explicit for certain chapters. (Semi-AU since this was written before Ziva and Ray's actual break up, clearly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distractions

Tony watched as Gibbs shuffled a few papers, stowed them away, and shut off the light as his desk. He got up, grabbing his coat and bag, and overlooking the desk one last time to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He walked past the two remaining agents in the squad room, giving them each a nod and a muttered wish for a good night, before heading to the elevator. McGee had left nearly an hour prior, as soon as the clock had hit five, apparently in need of making it to some appointment or another. Tony had assumed it was code for "Got another date with my hot blonde gammer." He had expected Ziva to head out shortly after, but she'd stayed still, diligently working on paperwork that had backed up for both of them given an unusual case load this last week.

Tony rarely stayed later than Gibbs. He certainly didn't want to be doing his work and would have rather shoved it off onto McGee's shoulders the next morning with a whine and particularly hard to resist pair of puppy eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his partner here alone. He watched her quietly, rolling the end of his pen against his lip as he did so. She'd been distant, cut off from most of the people around her for the last few days. He couldn't lie and say he didn't know why; no one could. Ziva's break up with Ray had been a rather messy and public affair. All he'd wanted to do since then was talk her into going for drinks, make her smile, and get her mind off the bastard for a little while. Every time he tried, she always turned him down, and he was forced to walk to his car, alone and defeated, and wishing there was something more he could do.

Tonight was going to be differently, however. He refused to just walk away in defeat and instead found himself continuing to sit in his own chair, doing his paperwork, and waiting for her to be the one to gather her things and leave. He glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting, and wondered whether or not she was ever going to make that choice. He tried not to think about it and instead focused on simply staying with her, giving her quiet company, and waiting for her to notice it.

It took nearly an hour before she spoke, not even bothering to look up from her papers. "Why are you still here, Tony?"

"Why are you?" He put his pen down, looking at her again, brows raised in curiosity. She'd been dodging questions that required more than monosyllabic answers for days now and he was hoping this would be a rare time when he'd backed her into a corner and she would need to actually use her words.

Instead he got a shrug and she quietly went back to scribbling.

Oh yes. She was very crafty.

"I'm staying here as long as you do, Ziva," he said finally, going back to look at his work. "I'm tired of you spending all your grief alone."

She said nothing, though the writing had stopped. He could practically hear her thinking, the tension between them loud and ominous. He expected to get told he was waisting his time, that he should get his things and go. Or maybe she'd go back to ignoring him, continue with her work, and just quietly accept his presence without really acknowledging it. It would mean they'd probably be here all night, one trying to stubbornly out last the other, but...

Before he could finish his thought, there was the soft click of her light being shut off, the sound of her drawers opening and closing, and the creak as she got up out of the chair, grabbing her bag and throwing it over her own shoulder. He didn't glance up from his papers, wondering if she was simply going to leave, or if she was trying to trick him into thinking she had so she could be left alone. He wouldn't have expected any less from her, really. She never liked to be forced into company.

What he hadn't thought would happen was to have her shadow suddenly hanging over him. Tony wrinkled his forehead, looking up to her from his chair, and trying to figure out what exactly she was waiting for. She said nothing and he finally was the one to break the silence.

"Yes?"

"... Drive me home." The words were said quietly and once out between them, she turned to head for the elevator. Tony sat there in some sort of temporary shock, trying to get the words to register properly, until he heard the ding and the familiar woosh of air as the doors parter. He quickly shoved away his papers, shut off the light, grabbed his bag, and ran for the doors himself. He made it just in time to slide into the elevator next to her, leaning against the wall and staring at the now glowing button for the garage.

"Does this mean I win?"

She gave a small 'hmph' and left no other confirmation or retaliation for his question. A smile tugged at Tony's lips. He'd take that as a yes.

The silence hung between them through the short ride to the garage. It stayed there even as the doors opened and he gave a motion that clearly said, Ladies first. Even as they passed by her car, Tony raising a finger in question, Ziva gave him a look that silenced the words before they could even get out. She didn't seem to care what people would think when they saw her car was still here or figure out how she would get around for the rest of the long weekend that was ahead of them without one. If she didn't want to worry about it, Tony wasn't going to worry about it either.

Unlocking the car, they both opened their doors simultaneously. They stayed in unison as they sat in their seats, closed the doors, and put on their seat belts. Tony played some with the rearview mirror as Ziva used the one on the passengers side to fix her hair. He put in the keys, turned on the engine, and they both let out a long sigh as he reversed and headed out of NCIS headquarters.

Being partners for so long had certainly made them learn how to work in sync.

The silence still lingered as they drove off down the road. Tony tapped the steering wheel some as he kept his eyes on the little traffic around them. Ziva leaned her head gently against the window, watching the lights roll by, clearly deep in some thought Tony only wished he could hear. He had been about to reach for the radio just to give some background noise when she finally opened her mouth and spoke.

"Do you ever wish you could just... drive? Leave everything behind?" She let her head come off the window, looking over to Tony, and biting at her lip. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, clearly trying to figure out whether or not she was serious. "I know we do not often have the luxury as Gibbs needs us on call so often, but... It would be nice. I think I only feel at peace these days when I am driving." She turned her head back to the window, watching the lines of the road this time instead.

Tony didn't reply. He chewed at his lip, rolling her words around in his head. He had wanted to help her relax, to keep her calm and happy, even when she seemed to think no happiness existed in the world any longer. Here, she was giving him a key, a small glimmer at what helped her to feel so much better about herself. Tony let the words sink in, and with a quick check to see if there were any cars behind him, steered across the lanes and into the ramp onto I-95.

Ziva tensed, startled by the change in direction. "What are you doing?"

"Driving," he said simply, leaning back to get into a more comfortable position once he was able to merge into traffic. "Just like you wanted." For someone who usually fills the silence with so much talking, Tony decided it was best to keep his words short and to the point this time. Ziva stared at him for a moment and Tony wondered if he had made the wrong decision.

"Where are we going?" she said finally, relaxing, and looking to the side to take in the highway around them.

"Haven't figured that out yet." He could hear her chuckle dryly and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shake her head and bring her hand up to rub her brow. It seemed to be more an expression of disbelief than irritation, but he didn't have much time to take it in as his eyes flickered back to the road.

"This is crazy, Tony," she said finally. "Turn back around, we should stay in D.C." Her voice seemed to have more defeat in it than actual desire to return and because of it, Tony did nothing of the sort, bypassing yet another exit on the highway as he drove on a road leading, as far as he was concerned, absolutely no where.

"North or West?" he said finally, smiling to himself and not bothering to acknowledge her comment in the slightest. "I'm not turning the car around to head South and, well, East seems a little bit on the wet side. Never did manage to get the Bond car that can drive under the ocean." He purposefully laced his voice with disappointment at such a ridiculous fact.

Ziva was quiet for a moment, staring at him, silently taking everything into consideration. He could feel her thinking, practically, and wished she'd pick something to say. Finally she pointed ahead of them. "North works fine, I suppose. Just do not take me to Vermont." The state was said with more bitterness than he imagined she had towards almost any landmass (short of possibly Somalia). He had a feeling Florida was on the same black list at the moment. He nodded at her request, stepping a bit more firmly on the gas pedal and allowing them to accelerate forward.

They went back to the silence, though this one was far more comfortable than the last. It was late - almost midnight, even - and neither knew how long the drive would really go for. Ziva leaned forward to turn Tony's iPod onto shuffle, chuckling when the soft sound of classic jazz filled the car. She was beginning to wonder if he listened to anything else. Leaning back in her seat, she stretched her legs out in front of her and got comfortable.

"You should let me drive," she muttered as Tony yawned loudly. They'd were well passed New York City, it was nearing five in the morning, and Tony couldn't help but give her a side look before letting his eyes drift back to the road in front of them. "You can sleep in the back and I will keep going."

"You're not driving my car," he grumbled, glancing at the exits on the highway. "I value this automobile far too much to see it wrapped around a pole." He cleared his throat, rolling down the window to get the cold breeze on his face in order to jolt himself awake. "Besides, like I could ever sleep while you drive."

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue further, and folded her arms over her chest as she looked out the window. "Then we should find a hotel. You can not continue driving like this."

He cleared his throat, digging into his pocket to pull out his smart phone. Handing it over to her, he didn't take his eyes of the road as he spoke. "I've got an app that'll search for lodging in the area. There should be some with AAA discounts on there. See if you can find one within the next couple of exits?" She reached out to take the phone from him, her hand sliding carefully away from his, almost lingering while pulling away at the same time. It reminded him a particular plane ride. He shook his head a little to push the thought from his mind, putting both hands back on the wheel again and sitting a little straighter.

"There is a bed and breakfast off the road of the next exit. If you do not mind that it does not have your battery discount, we could stop there." She paused, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. "Why do they give you a discount for using those tiny batteries anyway?"

"... Because some people are just nice like that," he said in a deadpan, not even bothering to explain, and simply rolling his eyes gently. He wasn't sure how she had transferred her license and held it for so long without finding out what AAA was, but he couldn't really hold anything passed her. "Plug the address into the bitch in a box -"

"The what?"

He sighed, pointing to the GPS unit on the windshield. "That thing! Punch it in so we don't get lost." Ziva gave him an irritated look for having gotten so snappy, but did as she was told without complaint. She copied the address as carefully as she could and hit the little green go button before placing it back into its holder.

It didn't take long to find it once they'd gotten off the highway. The town was small and there wasn't even a McDonald's or Starbucks to be found in it. The house was an old colonial, painted in bright, pastel colors that made it look like it should be made of gingerbread and being eaten by two little gluttonous children. Tony gazed at it from behind the wheel, scrunching his mouth. "I'll go check us in. You wait here in case there's no vacancy." He slipped out of his seat before she could object, closing the door behind him.

The inside of the house was no less kitschy; the walls were covered in what looked like old Victorian photos, but were likely the kind you got at fairs with your friends dressed up in old clothing to make it look like you had ancestors leave you photographs from forever ago. That or he'd bet his badge that they were purchased at antique stores and garage sales for fifty cents. The walls were painted pinks and whites and made it feel like a cupcake factory had exploded inside it. He scrunched his mouth, went over to the counter and quickly tapped the bell to try and get some service. An old man came around the corner a few moments later, smiling broadly.

"How can I help you, sir?"

Tony pointed towards the staircase with his thumb. "You gotta room?"

The man nodded, going to look at the key rack behind him. "Looks like I got... one with two twins or a king. What'll it be?" He turned back to face Tony, that same broad grin on his face as he waited for an answer. Tony tapped his fingers lightly on the counter, debating. He glanced back over his shoulder at the door, knowing Ziva was sitting and waiting in the car behind it. His mouth scrunched in thought. He always did enjoy sleeping next to her, even if he knew it wasn't the most appropriate thing. A blatant breaking of rule number twelve.

He'd done worse with EJ, hadn't he?

"The king'll be good. Too tall for a twin anyway." He held out his hand for the key.

"Do you ever think about Paris?" Ziva said as Tony closed the door to the room behind them. It made him pause, his hand hovering on the handle. He shrugged as he let it go, going to look around the room as though it held pieces of art that were absolutely fascinating and not just more of the same, cheap, antique store photographs as the downstairs lobby.

"Sometimes," he muttered as he looked at the all too famous painting of dogs playing poker with far too much interest. "It was a hell of a city."

"We never really talked about it," she said casually, going to smooth out the already far too flat sheets on the bed. "At least not outside how beautiful the city was."

"Not much to talk about, is there?" He brushed some dust off the frame, before turning around to look at her, hands shoved in his pockets. "Just another mission."

She looked him over thoughtfully before giving a dissatisfied, "Hn," and going to check out the bathroom. Tony let his head fall back, silently wondering why this conversation of all things had had to come up. He was in no way sure how to talk about the emotional connection they'd shared in Paris. About the fact that he had watched her sleeping so peacefully curled up beside him, tucking the hair carefully behind her ear, and hoping she didn't wake up. It could lead to further discussions about feelings and rules and other things he'd really rather just avoid talking about all together.

He went to place the emergency overnight bag that he kept in the backseat of his car by the side of the bed, glancing over his shoulder at the cracked-open bathroom door. "I've got a t-shirt in my bag if you want to borrow it for the night. I don't think your work clothes make comfortable pajamas." He pulled the Star Wars t-shirt from the bag, tossing it onto her side of the bed without waiting for an answer. She came out of the bathroom a moment later, going to pick it up and giving him a small smile of thanks. Turning back around, she went into the bathroom again to change.

He hadn't meant to spy. Well, maybe a small part of him had when he noted her could see a slim portion of her profile when she hadn't closed the door all the way. He let his eyes linger as she pulled off her blouse and work pants. His breath caught in his throat as she went to unhook her bra. It was then that he tore his gaze away, going to look out the window instead. Tony would be the first to admit he loved to look at women, but he felt like watching Ziva undress when she had no idea he was able to see her felt... wrong. It wouldn't have felt wrong when they'd first met six years ago, but his opinion on women and sex had changed drastically since then. He couldn't bring himself to disrespect her in such a way.

He was perfectly happy to take in the sight of her walking out of the bathroom in his shirt, however. The hem came down to only barely cover her, at least three-quarters of her thigh still very much in view. He watched as the hem rose another inch as she stretched before crawling under the covers. Swallowing, he went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Once in his boxers, he went to crawl into bed next to her, trying to keep some space between them. After reaching over to turn off the light, he rested his head on his arm, trying to get comfortable on an unfamiliar mattress. They were quiet for a while, both staring at the darkened ceiling. It was Ziva who spoke first, breaking the silence with a softly muttered, "Thank you, Tony."

He rolled over onto his side, supporting his head with his hand and staring over at her. "For what?"

"This." She waved her hand to the room around them, shifting her head so she could look him in the eyes. "Being... a good man." She looked back up at the ceiling. "After everything that has happened, I needed a reminder that not all of the people I love are going to betray me."

The word "love" rung loud and crisp in his ears. He tried to remind himself she meant a general love, a platonic feeling that likely meant nothing he really wanted it to mean. Tony smiled softly, going to place a hand on hers and giving it a small squeeze. "What are friends for, right?" He let his hand slip away from hers as he went to lay on his back again, once more staring up at the ceiling. The silence willed itself between them again. Tony listened quietly to the sound of Ziva's breathing, chewing at his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Should he have pushed about the word love? Should he have asked her to talk more about Ray? To open up for once about what had happened to her in a situation? Or maybe he could have said something more important. Something with more meaning attached.

"I think about Paris," he said finally, not looking at her. "I think about it all the time. I have that picture of you framed at home. I keep it on the bookshelf with other team photos, you know. So I can look at it whenever I want to. It reminds me..." He trailed off, not sure if he wanted to continue, but clearing his throat some, he pressed onward. "It reminds me of how I - we - felt that night. It was a good night. A really good night. Very... Roman Holiday, only without a pier party and no jumping into the water." He paused, rubbing his neck lightly, trying to decide if her silence was an encouragement or a sign for him to stop talking. She'd said she wanted to talk about it, hadn't she? "And I think... about how nice it was. To sleep next to you. I hadn't really slept next to anyone in a long time and you felt so right curled up next to me, you know? You fit perfectly, really. Maybe it was the city that made me feel that way. I mean, it's the city of love, right? Or is it just the city of lights? Either way - Gibbs would back me up. That place is dangerous for partners. Though I don't know if it would've mattered what city we were in. It was just... easier. To not think about rules. When we're away from D.C." He rolled onto his side so he could face her again. "You gonna say anything?"

More silence.

He felt a nervous knot in his stomach, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She gave a soft snort, rolling onto her side and placing a hand on his chest. She was out cold.

Tony sighed, going to lay back into the pillows again. "This is like a beginning to a bad Woody Allen film," he grumbled to himself, before closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep himself.


	2. Confessions Part 1

Rolling over, Tony buried his face gently against Ziva's neck, putting an arm around her and pulling her close. He was always amazed by how well her body fit against his and he smiled softy against her skin. He took a deep breath, taking in the faint smell of her shampoo still clinging to her hair. It was floral, though he wouldn't have been able to say what kind of flower if his life had depended on it. He was willing to bet McGee could've accurately guessed it within a second. It had something with more spice lingering there as well, though he was willing to bet that was a combination of the smell of his car and sweat than because of anything she used in the shower.

He let his hand rub her stomach gently. He could feel how worn the cotton shirt was, his finger catching in one of the many small holes and gently grazing over the skin underneath. It was ridiculous how even the slightest bit of contact could make his breath catch in his throat. Her skin was smooth and warm. It was difficult to resist the urge to slide the rest of his hand underneath the hem of the shirt and get more of a feel for it.

She began to shift against him and he pulled his hand back suddenly, placing it innocently onto her arm and shutting his eyes. He could pretend to be asleep successfully, couldn't he? She rolled over enough so that she was facing him, his hand falling off of her arm in the process and going to lay on the small of her back instead. He could feel her breath on his face. He was willing to bet she was studying him, her mouth scrunched in thought as she tried to figure out if he was really sleeping or not.

"You've never been good at faking" she all but grumbled, sleep still clinging to her voice. Tony scoffed, cracking an eye open to look at her. She had a smug smirk on her face.

"You have morning breath," he replied grumpily, going to pull the pillow out from under his head and shoving it into her face. He could still hear her chuckle as he pulled himself out of bed, stretching and whimpering as he felt his back jumped in surprise when he felt her pull on the waist band of his boxers, yelping as they snapped back against his skin. He hadn't even heard her move to the other side of the bed to do it. He glared at her over her shoulder. She knew well enough he hated when she was sneaky.

"Are those fortune cookies?" she said with amusement, ignoring the disgruntled look she was being given. She seemed to be trying to hold back. "'You'll get lucky tonight.' Wishful thinking?"

He gave a snort, one that was meant to convey she was crazy, but couldn't bring himself to deny it. Instead, he headed for the bathroom, going to grab his emergency bag as he did so. She seemed like she was following and he was quick to close the door in the face.

"It is not as though I haven't seen it all before," she said through the door. He could hear her leaning against it and rolled his eyes.

* * *

Tony practically vacuumed through the classic eggs, sausage and bacon breakfast that was given at the tables. It was then that he'd realized just how long it had been since he'd last eaten. They hadn't had time to order dinner and he'd never stopped to get anything on the road as he and Ziva had started driving. He looked up to see how she was going on her food, sure that she had to be just as hungry as he was. She seemed to be eating much slower and was even watching him with a rather disgusted fascination.

"Are you chewing or just inhaling?"

"I'm hungry," he grumbled in some embarrassment, but put down his fork so he could wipe his mouth with a napkin. She got a small smile of triumph on her face at it and went to take another bite of eggs.

"Did you want to keep driving?" she asked once she'd swallowed, not really looking at him as she did so. He couldn't tell if she was secretly hoping for him to say yes or if she was wanting him to turn around and take her back to DC. He hoped it wasn't the latter.

Shrugging, he finished off his bacon with a large bite, and chewed in silence. He didn't know how to answer her. He used the time it took to swallow as a chance to think. "Do you?"

She shrugged as well, starting to push her eggs around on the plate. It was something he noticed she did when she was feeling uncomfortable or pressured to make a decision when she didn't want to. A rhythm to focus on in hopes that the other party would answer for her. She didn't do it often, usually the sort to like to be in control, but he knew that she wasn't exactly in a place where she would be her usual self right now.

He'd never realized just how much Ray must have meant to her until he was gone. He silently cursed the bastard for hurting her as he did. He didn't care if he hadn't meant to.

"Few more hours and we'll be out of New York. They've got tons more Bed and Breakfasts up in that area. New England like... Thrives on them." He smiled, finishing off his eggs now, followed quickly by the last bite of sausage. "I'll get us back on the highway and we'll just see how far North we can go."

She smiled lightly and nodded. He knew he'd made her happy when she took another bite of eggs.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to get back on the road. Tony had stuffed the GPS into the glove compartment, stored for later use, and gotten the emergency bag thrown into the back of the car again. The highway stretched before them, sunnier this time and with a few more cars on the road than had been there before. It was a bit more of a cheerful right with the cooler, New England summer air blowing in through the windows. He didn't look away from the road to check, but he could almost feel Ziva smiling beside him.

"There's a shopping center not too many exists from now. I was thinking we could stop there instead of, you know, pulling the hobo routine and wearing the same clothes for days," Tony offered, letting his eyes glance at the signs above the road to try and figure out which one they should take. "Not top notch lines here, but I think we can brave Walmart's cheap fabric blends for a day or two, don't you?"

"I am not as picky as you are, my little hairy butt," she mused. He wrinkled his nose at the nickname.

The exit came up quickly and it wasn't long before the car was parked and the two of them were heading into the large department store. Ziva looped her arm through his as they made their away across the parking lot, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked through the automatic doors.

"I find it silly that people cannot even open a door on their own anymore. They need a machine to do it for them."

"It's the American dream, Ziva. You should be a big supporter of that now, with your little immigrant ways."

She snorted, pulling away from him and heading towards the women's clothes. Tony couldn't help but feel a slight tug of disappointment at no longer being so close to her. He slid up behind her, pretending to be interested in the shirt she was carefully eyeing, and let his hand fall onto her hip. She didn't jerk away and so he left it there, assuming she either didn't care or hadn't noticed. He wasn't going to point it out either way.

"Do you think this would make me look fat?"

"I dunno, can twigs look fat?" He gave a small 'ooph!' as she elbowed him. "I'm just saying, Ziva, you don't exactly have enough fat on your body in order for you to look fat."

She gave him a side-look, before nodding and draping the shirt over her arm. She pulled out a pair of jeans, glancing at the size, before letting them rest with the shirt.

"I think we should go to the lingerie section." He waggled his eyebrows at her as she glared at him over her shoulder. She let her lips form in a pout a moment later, turning fully and letting her hand run over his chest. He swallowed roughly, forgetting about how good such a teasing touch could feel. She hadn't done it to him in a while, after all.

"That's a good idea, Tony," she muttered, leaning upwards until her lips met his ear. "You would look awfully good in a corset."

He frowned as she pulled back, patting his cheek lightly, and moving to go and look at more of the shirts.

"Funny. Really. Not like I didn't see that one coming a million miles away."

* * *

It was late and the shopping center was far behind them. They'd both successfully gotten outfits for the weekend ahead (and changed, for that matter, out of yesterday's clothing). They'd been driving for several hours, the sun already starting to set in the sky. The mix Tony had selected was starting to go on repeat and Ziva leaned forward, shutting it off rather than trying to find something new. They'd played old highway games Tony hadn't participated in since he was a child and he'd taught her that Eye Spy was a fun past time, not some Black Op that he'd gotten years ago.

It had been an all around relaxed and interesting ride.

Silence had returned, however, and without the background noise, he began to become slightly fidgety. He could almost hear her thinking. It made him nervous not knowing what was on her mind. They stayed in the silence until they'd pulled in front of the new Bed and Breakfast. Tony was relieved to see a vacancy sign. Given that it was the height of the season, he hadn't been expecting it.

"I'll get us a room," He pushed the door open. Ziva decided to follow this time, grabbing their shopping bags from the back and locking the doors behind her. She slid passed him, going up to the counter, and smiling at the man behind it.

"King, please." The man nodded, taking her credit card and sliding it through, before handing over the key. Ziva turned to Tony, giving him a once over, and pressing the key into his chest. "At least I will not be lying and saying it is the only one," she muttered, before heading up the stairs towards their room.

Tony stared at the key, now in his hand, and sighed. He wondered just how much she knew.

* * *

The two had changed into their newly bought sleepwear in silence. Ziva ran a brush through her hair and Tony made himself busy by looking through all the drawers in the room, pulling the predicted Bible out from the nightstand and snorting. He tossed it back into its place before flopping back onto the bed, looking over to her. Neither seemed to want to brave the topic that was hanging so delicately between them. He opened his mouth to talk, finally, but was cut-off before he got the chance.

"So,Roman Holiday without the pier jumps, huh?"

He swallowed, quickly glancing over to her, before snapping his eyes back to the ceiling.

"So you were awake."

She gave a low chuckle as a response. "It was a very romantic speech." She rolled her head to the side, staring out the window instead of looking at him.

He snorted - or perhaps it was a well-disguised scoff. "So romantic you couldn't even respond. Right." He hadn't meant to sound so bitter about it, but it had still come out with the emotion grazing the edges. Or, perhaps more accurately, saturating them.

Ziva was quiet for a moment, watching the cars on the distant highway, little floating spheres that eventually disappeared behind the tree line. The strain in the silence was impossible to ignore and Tony shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with the pillow simply to have something to do with his hands.

"I did not want to press it. You can be so ... what is the word? Bipolar?" She ran through a silent list of other possible words in her head, before nodding. "Yes. Bipolar with your emotions. One second you are willing to be affectionate with me, the next day you are awkward and stiff and it is like it never happened."

"I wouldn't have become stiff," he started defensively, but it was her turn to scoff.

"Please! Just like you don't get jealous every time I have a boyfriend. Like you didn't after Paris. Like you didn't after Somal-" she cut herself off, shaking her head, and pressing her hand to her forehead. "You act like you did not say so many things you have said to me. That you could not live without me. And if I had not brought it up, you would have kept avoiding what you said last night, too. Then you sit there and wonder why I take shelter in the arms of men like Michael - and Ray - and - and -" He'd gotten up at some point during her rant. He'd crawled out of the bed, crossing the short distance to the window, and he made sure to cut her short. His arms were around her waist, holding her close, his face buried in the untamed curls that framed her face. He breathed her in. She struggled softly, shaking her head. "Do not touch me when I am mad at you."

He didn't let her go. She wasn't fighting hard enough for him to believe she actually wanted it. After all, she could have easily pushed him away at any moment. "You're just being dramatic," he muttered. "Trying to make a point."

She huffed, but did not reply.

"... I'm sorry, Ziva."

She stopped struggling. She froze, even, surprised by the words. Tony rarely apologized and certainly not without some kind of push. She swallowed, trying to not sound hopeful as she responded; "For what?"

He shook his head, not sure how to say it. She turned around in his arms to look at him again, her eyes searching, wanting an answer. He stared down at her for only a moment before he let his eyes wander, breaking the gaze, finding the carpeting of the room to be more fascinating than ever.

"For never being honest. For stringing you along. For -" The words caught in his throat, his eyes shutting. "... For not... loving you... the way you deserve to be loved."

The words surprised even her. She hadn't expected him to use them, even after all the pushing. Ziva stared up at him for a moment, her face for once vulnerable, the clear look of being truly touched in her eyes. He went to open his mouth, perhaps to back up, to retract what he'd said and make excuses, but she placed her fingers to his lips to stop him. A soft shushing noise left her before she leaned up, pressing her mouth to his in a gentle kiss.

They held onto it. It didn't become rough and passionate like he'd always imagined it would be. It was soft and sweet, showing the care that they'd wanted to give one another for so long but always been too afraid to do. He let his hand move upwards, cupping her cheek. His palms were sweating and his heart was pounding. It was like being a teenager all over again. It was the first time in a long time that he could remember wanting a kiss to last forever.

When she finally pulled away, she took a moment to look up at him. Deep brown eyes searched through his softer green and a smile twitched at the corner of her lips.

"Take me to bed, Tony."

All he could do was nod.


	3. Indulgences

Sleep hadn't really been on either of their minds. Kisses had turned to touches which in turn became an intricate art of carefully removing one another's clothes. His hands explored her body like it was a strange new land. They seemed to fit together perfectly, moving in unison, each sensation better than the next. It wasn't the sort of sex that would be easily forgotten or ignored the next day. It was one of those moments where they communicated wordlessly, letting their passion lead them, their bodies performing a loving and unique dance for one another.

Tony had never heard someone moan his name so beautifully.

He was curled up beside her, his body still sweaty and he could see her chest rising and falling in heavy pants. His fingers traced along the bare skin of her back, smiling at the soft almost purr-like noise that escaped her in response. She pushed back slightly more against his body. It fit perfectly in his arms.

Leaning down, he placed a kiss against her shoulder. She hummed out a soft sigh, turning her head just slightly in his direction.

"You are not going to regret this in the morning, are you?"

Tony glanced over his shoulder at the daylight starting to stream in through the curtains and chuckled, rolling back over so he could whisper in her ear; "It's already morning."

She elbowed him gently, receiving a dramatic whine in return for it. "You know what I mean, Tony. Will you regret this once we are back on the road? Once we are on our way back to the real world with real people - people like Gibbs. With his rules."

He was quiet, not really sure how to respond. He liked to think he wouldn't become stiff and weird, but he found it impossible to guarantee. Gibbs' opinion, his approval, it meant the world to him. He'd already botched it once with EJ and he knew the panic of disappointing him would be hard on him. How would he take breaking his precious rule number twelve (yet again) with Ziva of all people? He couldn't imagine that his boss would be particularly forgiving of it.

"Well, it's not like he has to know," he said finally, though the belief didn't stick to his words very well. He was under the impression that Gibbs knew everything. There was no keeping secrets on the team. "If we don't bring it up, there's no reason to worry, right?"

She stared at him skeptically in the dim light, but finally nodded, turning enough so that she could lay her head on his shoulder. Her fingers began to play with the hair on his chest, her eyes distant. He could tell his words hadn't done anything to comfort her. He wasn't turning out to be very good at this feelings thing.

"Hey," he said with a soft nudge. She glanced up at him and he tried his best to give a serious look when his head was tilted at such an awkward angle. "I won't regret it. I might get weird and scared and worried, but... I'm glad for it. All of this. With you. Okay?"

Smiling, Ziva leaned upwards, going to place a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you, Tony."

Grinning, he went to pull her body as closely to his own as he could get it, placing kisses along her shoulder. "Now," he muttered, nipping at her skin once, "I think we should pick up where we left off last night. If you're... you know, up for it."

Ziva gave a low chuckle, going to pull away from his arms. He pouted, but a grin was quickly placed on his lips as she rolled herself over on top of him, pressing another passionate kiss into his mouth.

* * *

The sun was fully risen by the time Tony cracked an eye open, waking from a very relaxed slumber. He glanced over at the clock. It was well passed check-out time. Noon at this point. He couldn't help but laugh to himself, laying his head back against the pillow. The realization that last night was a complete reality and not just some hormonal induced dream (as was the usual) made it impossible to wipe the grin off his face. He had worries, of course. Legitimate concerns about how this would cross over into their work and how it would cause them to interact at the office, but he couldn't bring himself to care at this point.

It was still a full day before they had to think about driving back to DC. They'd be in the car all day, he was sure, but a long weekend had meant more time with her. This was why they'd taken the trip now all together.

He pulled himself out of bed as quietly as he could, trying to not wake her, and made his way towards the bathroom so he could take a shower. The last thing he wanted to do was go down to the main desk and pay for another night while smelling so heavily of sweat and sex. He was sure it would be obvious regardless, but it was nice to at least try to cover it up. He leaned in to turn on the warm water and began to brush his teeth as he let it heat up.

It was then he heard a buzzing from the other room. It took him a moment to fully understand what the noise was and where it was coming from until he realized it was his phone. Dashing out into the other room, he grabbed his pants from the floor, glancing at Ziva cautiously to make sure she didn't wake up. She stirred lightly, but for once in her life, seemed to be in a completely deep sleep. Tony sighed with relief, digging into his pocket, toothbrush still held firmly in his mouth by his teeth, and pulled out the droid.

"Freaking - touch screen - just work!" He grumbled. Finally getting it to answer the call, he yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth, and went back into the bathroom to spit into the sink so he could give a disgruntled; "What do you want, McGee?"

"We were supposed to go to lunch today. Where are you? I've been knocking on your door for like five minutes."

Tony rubbed his face, trying to remember when they'd made these kinds of plans. An apologetic groan escaped him. "I'm gonna have to skip today."

"I don't care if you're hungover, I'll get you some Advil."

"I'm not hungover, I'm in New England." The response was greeted with silence. He could practically hearTim's confused expression through the phone line. Tony rubbed his face again, going to stick his hand into the shower. "I took Ziva on a road trip to get her out of her headspace."

"You and Ziva are in New England?"

"Congratulations, Probie, you can put two and two together."

"Shut up. I just - together? Driving? Are you staying in hotels or something?"

"Nah, we thought it would be really neat to sleep on the side of the highway. We're totally hoboing our way through the Northeast." He rolled his eyes, flicking the water off of his hand and into the shower. "Yes, we're staying in hotels or something. Bed and Breakfast."

"You're sharing a room."

"Question or assumption?"

"Both."

"It can't be both. Just - Hold on." He could hear Ziva's voice from the other room and he quickly peaked out to see her beginning to wake up. "Hey, Probie - I - bad reception - it - we're - 'king u' - ca' - b-"

"Tony, no! I know you're faking! If this is like Paris, tell m-"

Tony closed the phone, cutting McGee off, and grinned at Ziva from behind the door.

"I'm taking a shower. Wanna join me?"

She smiled sleepily, but went to pull herself out of bed, nodding as she made her way to the bathroom herself.

* * *

"So when do you think we will start heading back?" Ziva asked the question lightheartedly as she popped a piece of watermelon from her fruit cup into her mouth, staring out at the ocean from the balcony of their room at the Bed and Breakfast. Tony paused mid-chew, not entirely sure how to answer. He was trying to decipher if it was her hinting at wanting to return home already or if it was her attempt to get him to tell her he wanted to stay longer.

He went back to chewing his sandwich, eventually swallowing and looking out over the tree tops. He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Thought maybe we could just wake up early and do all the driving tomorrow. It's only... what? Ten hours or so back to Virginia?" He shrugged, taking another bite, this time talking around the mouthful. "S'a ea'y 'ive i' 'oo as' meh."

She looked at him in disbelief for a moment, shaking her head, and finishing off the last bite of fruit. Once she'd swallowed, she responded; "You need to learn some proper table manners, my dear."

"My table manners are fine."

"Hn." She shook her head, reaching out to steal the other half of his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Hey!" He went to yank it back, but she'd grabbed ahold of his wrist before he could reach it, shaking her head. "Keep it," he muttered finally, popping the last bite of his half into his mouth. She smiled victoriously as she took another bite.

"So if we are waiting until tomorrow..." she muttered, trailing off and letting her eyes linger back towards the bedroom. Once she was sure she had made her point, she looked back to Tony, smiling softly, with an air of fake innocence to her. "I suppose we will have to find some way to pass the time. There is a children's museum in town, I saw it when we were driving in. We could go and play with the finger paints or some-"

She was cut off as he went to quickly yank her out of her chair, dragging her back towards the bed. Lunch was left forgotten on the balcony table.

* * *

Tony let his hands trace over Ziva's back. She'd fallen back asleep some time ago, but he had found that for once after sex, he was left with far too much energy to even think about taking a nap now. He smiled lightly at the way the light hit her skin, the warm tan evident even when she hadn't been to a beach in months. He let his fingers trace each curve, glad that for once, she wasn't waking up from the simplest of movements.

He wouldn't have even noticed the bump if he hadn't felt it with his fingers. The small imperfection in her skin. The way the sun shined on it had made it blend into the rest of the tones, washed out due to an abundance of light. His forehead creased as he let his fingers move back, tracing over the pattern - a thin, whitened line that was raised just slightly higher than the rest of the skin around it. It was rough, callused, and as he leaned in, he could see it was thicker near her shoulder blade and thinned out as it moved off to the side of her back.

A scar. One he had never noticed before, even with her low cut dresses. One he had failed to feel while they'd made love so many times in a weekend. He wondered how he had been so unobservant. How he could have looked over something so slight. Was it fresh? Was it from a childhood injury? Or, worse yet, was it from...?

They never talked about Somalia. A rare mention here and there, a glimmer that she might open up, and the conversation would be shut down. He swallowed, his hand going to move over the scar again, and it was then that she began to scrunch her face and give a groan to show she was starting to wake up. Tony shot his hand back quickly to his side, going to lay on his back and tuck his arm underneath his head.

"Enjoying the view?" she muttered, rolling over so her back no longer faced him, but her face instead. She smiled blearily up at him and he felt his heart swell. Leaning down, he placed a kiss against her lips, soft and loving, though with a depth of emotion to it she hadn't felt from him in the last few days. It made her forehead wrinkle and a nervous smile form at the corner of her lips. "Are you alright, Tony?"

He opened his mouth, wanting to tell her, wanting to ask, wanting to push the subject that they had so carefully avoided for years now. Topics that had never been brought up. Words that had been spoken and never addressed again.

Couldn't live without you, I guess...

"Thinking about the best route to take home tomorrow," he said finally, shrugging. He didn't have the heart to press.

"The longest one," she said simply, moving up to press her lips against his again. The kiss was held longer this time, her hand going behind his neck to hold him there, wanting to make it last just a little while more. She couldn't shake the fear that he would pull back when they returned to D.C. and that this was the only chance she had.


	4. Regrets

They hadn't really spoken since they'd gotten back to D.C. The ride home had been peaceful enough. Light hearted in the beginning, laughing and talking, holding hands when Tony hadn't needed both hands on the wheel. The closer they'd gotten to the city, however, the fewer the words seemed to be shared. There was less chuckling and longer stretches of complete silence. Neither had even dared to turn on the music and it had been almost unbearable, not knowing what was going through the others head. No one pressed. No one questioned. Tony had dropped Ziva off at her apartment, at least willing to walk her to the door.

He opened his mouth to say goodnight, but she lifted her hand, shaking her head slowly. Leaning upwards, she placed a kiss close to the side of his mouth, lingering long enough for him to place his hand on her lower back and hold her there a moment. When she pulled away, he gave her a soft smile, before she'd disappeared inside the building without a word.

Work had come on far too quickly. Tony retracted on his promise to not clam up around her, to not get nervous whenever Gibbs looked their way, wondering if he knew, convincing himself he did, and trying to figure out why he wasn't saying a word about it. Did he not care? Or was he waiting for Tony to come to him as he had with EJ? Wanting to lecture him in the security of his basement over a glass of bourbon where no one would be able to overhear? He could feel a lump in his throat building every time he thought about it. The obvious solution was to avoid the thoughts all together.

It was that alone that should have made him not jump in surprise when he heard the click of the lock of the bathroom door. He didn't even have to glance in the mirror to know that it was Ziva who was standing behind him now. Sighing, he gave a shake, before carefully readjusting himself, and zipping up his pants. He didn't look to her as he made his way to the sink to wash his hands.

"We've really gotta stop meeting like this, you know."

"I thought you said you would not regret it," she all but snapped at him, only now checking to make sure no one else was hiding in the stalls. He was tempted to tell her that was a bit of a delayed precaution, but with the tone in her voice, he had a feeling it wasn't best to test the waters right then.

He simply responded with a sigh. "Not in the mood for light hearted teasing, I take it." He flicked the water from his hands, going to grab a paper towel and drying them off quickly. Tossing the crumpled paper over her shoulder, he smiled as it landed in the basket behind her.

She looked entirely unamused.

"I don't regret it," he finally said, looking tired as he leaned against the edge of the sink. "Am I acting like I did?"

"By practically ignoring me the past three days?" She huffed, shaking her head in agitation. "No, Tony, how on Earth could I have gotten such a message from you?"

He felt his stomach tie in knots again. The same knots her got around Gibbs. Was she right? Did he regret it? Is this what regret was going to feel like when it wasn't some sort of gut wrenching guilt? Just... awkward? Strained? He looked at her, a thousand words for an apology spinning behind his eyes, but none of them seemed to want to form properly and come out of his mouth. He had lied to her, hurt her - again. It seemed to be all he could do to her.

She snorted softly, shaking her head. "Next time you wish to act out some fantasy vacation dream, bring another girl. I cannot take you and your games anymore."

"Ziva..." She held up her hand to cut him off before unlocking the door and heading back out towards the squad room. Tony closed his eyes, biting on his lower lip and tried to figure out how he was going to walk back out like there was absolutely nothing wrong.

* * *

"What did you do?"

Tony stared down at Abby's finger pointing directly at his face in such an accusatory manner, pure surprised and bewilderment on his face. He let his eyes flicker upwards to look into her own, seeing quite a bit of irritation - maybe even borderline anger - in her expression. He swallowed lightly, shaking his head, and going to deny any wrong doing. She didn't let him get a word out, instead throwing her hands up in the air, and continuing her rant.

"Ziva's acting weird. Like, really weird. Like sad kind of weird. And according to McGee, you were the last person he knows she spent any alone time with. Which means that you know something. Or did something. Or both." She turned around, the irritation replaced with worry and concern. "Did you two fight or something?" The anger came back onto her face as she pressed the tip of her finger into his chest. "Did you bring up Ray with her? Because Tony, if you did-!"

"I didn't bring up Ray," he said firmly, going to wrap his hand around Abby's. "Tim doesn't exactly keep full tabs on Ziva. You don't know for sure I'm the last one she was with."

She let her hand hang in his for a moment before pulling it away and glaring skeptically at him. "So you're saying you're for sure not the cause of Ziva being upset?"

He was quiet for a moment. He couldn't lie to Abby. Apparently his silence lasted a bit too long for the scientist's tastes as he had a sudden sting on the back of his head when she gave him a nice smack.

"Gibbs would have wanted me to," she said simply. "I can't believe you went and upset her when she's already so upset, Tony."

"It was an accident."

She gave him a look, pressing without words, and he couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably under her gaze. How could he tell her? How he could he openly admit to so grievously breaking Rule Number Twelve in the lab that Gibbs could walk into any minute? He held onto some false hope that maybe his mentor had yet to figure everything out and he certainly didn't want to blow it by mentioning anything in the office. He held her gaze, biting at his lip, before giving a huff and finally breaking away to look at her computer.

"Whaddya got, Abs?"

* * *

Ziva sat quietly in her chair, staring at the computer screen in front of her. Tony had managed to talk McGee into going out for drinks only moments ago and the two had left, talking about some movie they'd both gone to see. He seemed perfectly cheerful, despite how miserable the day had been between them. She couldn't tell if it was an honest good mood or just one of those many fake ones he liked to use to cover how he was really feeling.

He was always so good at faking things.

It made her hate him, sometimes.

She found herself not quite wanting to return home. Not wanting to be left with nothing to do, plagued by thoughts, wondering if maybe she should call him and forgive him for being... well, Tony. She had known for the start this could happen; his issues with commitment were hardly a well kept secret and she knew how many one night stands he had had over the years. To make something serious, especially with his partner, well... It could be likened to asking for the moon from him.

Sighing a bit bitterly, she went to open up her e-mail, opening up the new messages inside just to have something to focus on. She had been in the midst of replying to one from Malachi when she could feel eyes on her. The silent stare of an all too familiar figure, likely getting ready to take a sip from the coffee cup that seemed permanently attached to his hand.

"You are here late, Gibbs."

"You're one to talk, Ziver." He smiled lightly when she looked up to meet his gaze, brow arching in question. "Case is over. Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

She shook her head gently, looking back to the computer screen. "I do not wish to go home yet. I... don't particularly care for the feelings that await me there." It was easier to be honest with him when she wasn't looking at him. He was the only one she ever fully opened up to and even then, it felt strange. Foreign. Things people had been doing since they were children were habits she had been trained against. It was like growing up all over again, relearning how to talk to people, to relate to them. It still had a tendency to make her uncomfortable.

"Cruz?"

"... Mm." She nodded. It was only a half-lie, after all. The way Gibbs stared made her feel like he knew this, somehow, as though he were going to pry further, or was waiting for her to spill more. She pursed her lips and sent off the e-mail she'd just completed, not entirely sure even what it said anymore.

Gibbs reached forward and shut off her light.

"Get home, Agent David. Get some rest. I'll need you sharp tomorrow."

As she went to grab her bag, he waited by her desk. He gave her a soft kiss against the cheek when she moved passed him before heading towards autopsy, likely to see if he could get a last minute conversation in with Ducky. Ziva placed her fingers to her cheek, grateful for the warmth and comfort that he had left there, and trying her best to hold on to it for just a little while longer.

She wondered if this was how daughters normally felt with their fathers.

* * *

"I think I screwed up, Probie," he muttered before tipping back his glass to get the last of the scotch out from between the ice cubes. He let one fall into his mouth, sucking gently on it, enjoying the way the mixture of water and alcohol melted onto his tongue. It was the best way to get every last drop of flavor from his drink before getting a refill.

McGee only gave a small snort, taking a sip from the dark ale in front of him, and nodding in agreement. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"That's not helping."

"Sorry." He gave an awkward frown, scratching his neck gently. "Is this about the Ziva thing?" Tony didn't give a response, simply waving the bartender over for a refill. Tim rolled his eyes softly, taking that as confirmation. "Well it was dumb of you to go on that trip, you know. It's not like you two being alone ever has anything good come out of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

McGee shrugged, finishing off his drink and placing the glass away from him so it could be taken by the staff to be cleaned. "You just... complicate crap when you don't have someone there to mediate you. That's all."

"I complicate crap? What about her?"

"I meant it in more of the sense of the general you. Plural you. You and Ziva. Not just... you you."

"Oh." He nodded, apparently pacified, and took another sip from the refilled scotch. "Well. Alright. I guess you have a point there."

"So you screwed up," McGee began, stating it matter of factly and giving Tony no room for argument. "Now what? You've gotta make it up to her, right? How do you plan on doing it, DiNozzo?"

Tony shifted awkwardly in his seat, scrunching his mouth and looking at the bar top. Fix it. He didn't know how to fix it. She hadn't acknowledged him since their confrontation in the bathroom, short of to give case information or shove a file into his hand. Gibbs has forced them to go out to an interview together, but the car ride had been stiff and silent, and the discussion on the interview on the way back cold and business oriented. He rubbed his face, sighing, and shaking his head.

"I have no idea. I was... kind of hoping you could help me out there." He looked over at him, green eyes filled with some kind of desperation. "I mean, you guys are close. Maybe even closer than she and I are, in some ways. In a lot of ways. What do you think I'd have to do to get her to forgive me?"

"Besides let her shoot you?" He smirked a little, to show he was joking mainly, and then let out his own sigh, shaking his head. "You just have to show her you're really sorry, Tony. And I don't mean buying flowers and buttering her up like you do your girlfriends you piss off. But I mean really show her you're sorry."

Tony let the words digest. He'd never really tried to truly apologize to anyone. Occasionally he gave a heartfelt sorry, one he really meant, but never had he embellished upon it in a way that would show how much he meant it. He assumed people would understand and accept it for what it was. But with something this big, something this drastic, he was foolish to think he could do such a thing with Ziva. A muttered sorry with a desperate pout would only land him with a knife in his gut, he imagined. Or at least a very angry assassin shoving him out of her apartment.

He let his head drop onto the bar top, groaning loudly. "I'm screwed."


	5. Apologies

The bourbon was harsh on his chest, burning the entire way down, leaving a small trail of what Tony was sure would be crackling embers in his esophagus. He wasn't sure how Gibbs drank this day in and day out, but as he felt the muscles in his shoulders begin to relax as the alcohol slowly seeped into his blood stream, he was starting to at least figure out why. Clearing his throat, he took another sip, and let out a slightly painful sigh as he put the glass down.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," he said simply. Gibbs didn't seem inclined to answer with anything more than a small glance up from the carving for the head of a rocking chair, and then back down to it just as quickly. Tony rubbed his neck, slouching in the stool. "I really ticked Ziva off this time and I'm not really sure how to clean it up."

Another brief glance. More carving. Tony sighed.

"You've got nothing for me?" His voice was laced with a certain desperation that he wasn't quite used to hearing in his own tones. He was supposed to be more put together than this. The last time he'd come to Gibbs so upset, it had been over Wendy. It was just after he'd been hired, they'd barely even formed a bond, but he'd been there for him. He didn't want it to happen like that all over again. He wanted a happier ending this time.

Gibbs put down his tools, staring at the younger agent, and saying nothing.

Still, Tony was able to translate the silent words behind his eyes. "It's one of those things I've got to figure out on my own." A small eyebrow raise was all he needed for confirmation. "I was worried you'd say that. Or not say. Since you didn't really... say anything." Licking his lips, he let out another sigh, and went to look at the table top covered in saw dust. "It breaks a rule, doesn't it? Never apologize? It's a sign of weakness."

Gibbs shook his head, picking up his tools again to go back to his carving. "Rule Fort-five." He didn't feel the need to clarify which one it was.

"... Clean up your mess. Right. Overrides, I guess, if the only way to do that is say you're sorry." He swallowed, his forehead wrinkling. "Aren't you gonna yell at me or something? About hurting her? After she's already been hurt enough lately?" When there was no word or glance, he sighed in frustration. "Don't you have some kind of opinion? I came down here expecting some kind of lecture. Some kind of reinforcement of rule number twelve. A repeat of the last time I broke it, you know? Or was that different? Was it 'cause it was EJ? And this time it's not?"

Still, nothing.

Tony felt his jaw clench. He was finding the silence rather frustrating at this point. "Aren't you going to say I should've waited? Held off? Indefinitely? Some kind of talk about us being partners. Keep it out of the office. Which I already screwed over, since I think you're pretty damn well aware it affected work." He had practically botched the entirety of his paper work when they'd finished with their case. He'd been too distracted, too off his game. He had missed things, details, facts, things he never would have forgotten if he had been at full attention. "Come on, Gibbs. Yell at me. Do something, would you?"

"Seems like you're beating yourself up enough for the both of us, DiNozzo." He went to take a sip of his own bourbon finally. He didn't feel there was much to say. Tony's face was filled with a mixture of annoyance and confusion and a part of Gibbs felt perhaps he should force himself to elaborate. It wasn't his mess to clean up and the thought of getting so thoroughly involved in the affairs of his co-workers didn't really appeal to him. "Don't know what you want me to do."

"Tell me what to do!" He put both hands on the table, standing and leaning forward so his face was close to his mentor. "You know Ziva better than anyone ever could. If anyone can tell me how to get her to believe I'm sorry, it's you. Help me, Gibbs."

Gibbs held Tony's eye contact for a long moment. He could see the pleading in his eyes, the desperation to be told exactly what to say, what to buy, and even how to set up a romantic evening all that would lead to the ultimate forgiveness he was craving. His jaw clenched slightly, his lips pursing as he finally gave a slow shake of his head.

"I can't." It was as simple as that. No excuses or attempts at explanation.

"Can't or won't?" When he didn't answer, Tony finished off the rest of his bourbon. "Nice talk," he muttered sarcastically, before grabbing his jacket and heading out of the dimly lit basement. Gibbs watched his retreating back, sighing as the younger agent reached the top of the stairs.

"DiNozzo."

He paused, but didn't turn, waiting for whatever was supposed to come next.

"... You'll figure it out."

Tony gave a disgruntled snort and slammed the door behind him as he left.

* * *

Romantic gestures didn't mean much. Flowers and chocolates were superficial. Standing outside her window with a radio blasting classic hits from the 80s would probably go right over her head. He made a mental note that whenever she finally forgive him (if she finally forgave him), he'd have to make sure to show her every one of John Hughes' hit films. Then if she ever got angry at him again, he could pull out one of the scenes and she'd understand the romantic implications of it, rather than fixing her sidearm on him and telling him to get off her lawn.

His keys clinked together lightly as he shut off the engine. He stared at the door to her apartment building, only a few feet away. It shouldn't have been so hard to go and hit the buzzer. He was beginning to wonder if he even deserved to win her back, to earn her forgiveness. Surely she'd be happier with someone more stable, someone who could openly love and adore her. Someone who wouldn't break her heart at every turn. Someone who supported her openly, who never made fun of her and who was capable of showing love through kind acts rather than teasing her mercilessly.

Tony was pulled from his thoughts as he saw the door open. He could make out Ziva's silhouette before she even stepped into the light. He had been about to get out of the car when he saw another person step out with her; a tall, lanky, and very much male person. He leaned down so he could place a kiss against her cheek, pulling her into a tight hug. She murmured something into his ear and they both gave a laugh. They looked happy - very happy. Date-like even. Tony could feel his stomach tie in a knot as he watched the stranger walk across the lawn, heading for the townhouses down the road. He tried to resist the urge to throw something at him.

Pulling off his seat belt, he made his way out of the car, heading up the brick path to the building, jogging slightly so he could get there before Ziva headed inside. She'd been about to close the door when he placed his foot in the crack.

"Hey."

When she went to pull it open again, he could see the look of confusion on her face. "Tony...? What are you doing here?"

"You sure do the rebound thing quite nicely there, huh?" He said bitterly, going to lean against the door frame. When the confused look on her face didn't disappear, he pointed in the general direction of where the other man had walked off. "You two were looking might cozy. Had your eye on him a while or is it a new thing?"

"You mean Peter?" She shook her head, looking too tired to even be irritated. "No, it is... It is not like that, Tony. And even if it were, I do not see how it is any of your concern."

"He looked like he was getting pretty comfy. Friendly. Sure he's not taking advantage of your vulnerable state?"

"You assume I am in one," she snapped. "I am not doing this. He was not taking advantage of me." She went to close the door, but he placed his hand on it quickly to stop her.

"Looked that way to me."

"I am not his type."

"Oh please, you're every man's type. Foreign, hot, slightly dangerous, and -"

"He is gay, Tony."

His mind came to a halt. Suddenly he was feeling very sheepish. His grip on the door relaxed and Ziva couldn't help but roll her eyes. That hadn't really gone exactly as he planned. Not that he was sure he'd planned anything at all.

"I made friends with him after I moved in. There was a... dock party -"

"Block party."

"Whatever. There was one of those and he and his boyfriend came over to say hello. They knew I was one of the newer people in the area and he... He was kind to me. He wanted to make friends and I do not have to justify this to you, why are you even here?" She had, at some point, gone from her casual explanations that involved a great deal of talking with her hands, to being stiff once more and glaring at him accusingly.

"I -" Tony swallowed, not sure how to finish his thought. This was that inevitable moment where he was supposed to sweep her off her feet, make everything up to her. But instead all he could feel was some sort of strange knot in his stomach and a desire to throw up. "I came... to say I'm sorry," he said finally, his eyes averting to the ground as he rested a hand on his hip. He shrugged, sniffing a little, and cleared his throat. "For hurting you. Like I did. Do. Usually do."

She was quiet, staring at him quietly for a moment. He wondered if she was going to slam the door in his face, tell him it was too late for that, that he should just go home. Deal with it. He'd made his bed and now he had to lie in it. To his surprise, instead, she opened the door. He was hesitant at first, unsure if he should look to this as some kind of trap, but in the end, offered her a small and thankful smile, before stepping inside.

They walked up to her apartment in silence. She left the door open behind her so he could come inside and he was sure to close it as quietly behind him as possible. He felt like if he made too loud a noise or uttered the wrong word, she'd change her mind and kick him back out onto the streets.

Finally, he rubbed his hands together, looking at her with as much seriousness as he could muster. There was still a pout to him, like that of a kicked puppy, that Ziva couldn't help but sigh at.

"Listen, I... I messed up. And I know I did. I've tried thinking of a number of ways to show you I know that, but... All of them fall short, you know?" He rubbed the back of his head, his mouth scrunching. "Like, nothing I could do to show you how sorry I am would ever really make up for it. I even asked Gibbs for help, thinking he'd know, thinking he could tell me..."

"You told Gibbs?" She sounded surprised, cautious, and not entirely believing. "About us?"

He nodded, looking at the ground. "I mean, he already knew, but... I needed... I needed to, you know? I thought he'd tell me how to fix it. He didn't, by the way," he said with a slight grump to him. He knew why now, of course, but he still felt irrationally annoyed. "He gave those long silences and told me he couldn't. Said he knew I'd figure it out on my own."

"And did you?"

"I... I don't know. He was right that he couldn't tell for me. He might know you better than I ever could, better than anyone ever could, but... It was something I needed to come to on my own terms. If he told me, it's... it's not as genuine, right? Not as real." He swallowed, taking a tentative step forward, going to reach for her hand. He took the fact that she didn't pull away as a good sign. "And it is real, you know. Us. What we did. What we... had. Even if it was just a couple of days. Everything I did - everything I said... It was all real."

She bit her lip and Tony could see the smallest bit of tears behind her eyes. Tears she quickly blinked back for fear of a weakness showing, of not being strong enough for this. "You pulled away. You got scared. You promised..."

"I know, Ziva. I - I messed up. I'm only human. A fucked up human at that. But I can promise you that I'll do my best. I'll try to not run when I get scared, to not abandon you just because I can't handle my own emotions. I'm so lost in so many ways and I haven't let myself l... lo..." The word stuck in his throat, but he closed his eyes and tried to muster the strength. Still, his voice was small as he continues, without quite as much conviction. "Let myself love... someone... In a long time. A really long time. I forget how intense it is, how overwhelming - how scary it all can be. Feeling like your heart is swelling and ready to burst every time you're near someone. Feeling like you're going to melt away just because they touch your hand or put a kiss against your cheek. The fact that one person can make the entire world melt away just by looking at you. That one person can know you so... so deeply... Better than you even know yourself. It's not easy for me. It's not something I'm a natural at. It opens up for a whole world of pain that I can't handle again. I lost you once, Ziva, and it broke me. If I lost you again, I... I don't think I'd make it."

She could feel his hand shaking in hers and quickly went to grip it tightly. She took another step forward, closer to him now, and placing a hand on his cheek as she shushed him softly. She stroked the skin there, staring at him, trying to not be intimidated by the amount of emotion someone who was usually so shut off was showing. She tried to not be overwhelmed herself, tried to stay strong, but still her voice shook when she talk.

"You will not lose me, Tony." She muttered. "Not again."

He gave a soft smile - if one could call it a smile. It was a weak one that barely turned up the corners of his mouth. Yet somehow it still met his eyes.

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

She snorted, going to lean up so their lips nearly touched. "I suppose it does. For now."

He closed the remaining gap between them with a kiss.


End file.
